


The Veil

by Leela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Includes Art, Life after canon character deaths, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-09
Updated: 2011-12-09
Packaged: 2017-10-27 02:57:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/290891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All that mattered to Severus was the stone dais in the centre of the room and the arch that stood upon it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Veil

**Author's Note:**

  * For [r_grayjoy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/r_grayjoy/gifts).



> Written in January 2011 for as a birthday gift for r_grayjoy. Thank you so much for all your support and beta help. ♥
> 
>  **Beta** : eeyore9990
> 
> NOTE: All art is by [Veridari](veridari.insanejournal.com).

The room looked much the same as it had the last time Severus had seen it. Probably, it looked exactly the same as it had for centuries. An amphitheatre of death, he'd thought then and couldn't seem to stop himself from thinking again as he tried not to contemplate the steep, unforgiving stone steps that he had to stumble down to get where he needed to be. He was about to sink onto the closest stone bench and admit defeat, when Potter's hand tightened on his elbow.

"Your choice," Potter said. Although the broken edge to his voice made it clear what he wanted Severus to do.

And just like that, Severus's decision was made. He gritted his teeth against the pain, refused to wonder whether he should have taken one more pain potion — what would it have mattered, all things considered — firmed his grip on his cane, and started the long trek down.

Even with Potter's help, Severus was breathing with conscious effort, forcing himself not to wheeze, by the time he got to the bottom. He paused, leaning against the wall that ran around the perimeter of the floor. His neck muscles burned with the effort of holding his head up. He could barely move the arm and leg that remained weak and useless even after all the months of potions and healing spells and recovery from that damned snake's attack.

And, yet, all that mattered to him was the stone dais in the centre and the arch that stood upon it.

The veil. The tattered curtain still fluttered. The voices still murmured and whispered words just beyond hearing, tempting the unwitting and the witless.

"He was taunting her. Laughing," Potter said. He stood next to Severus, staring at the veil. Grief was carving lines that should not appear on a teenager's face, even Potter's. "Mad, really, the pair of them."

 _I'm mad, you know._ Sirius had said the words so matter-of-factly. In the same indifferent tone he'd used to ask people if they wanted milk or lemon with their tea.

Potter, however, didn't have the decency to keep quiet and let Severus wallow in his own grief.

"But I didn't care. Not when it came to him, at least." Potter made a shuffling noise and then, blessedly, shut up.

Eventually, when the pain had subsided to a level that wasn't incapacitating, and he could breathe with something resembling ease, Severus pushed himself upright and tried to shake off Potter's grip.

The stupid idiot wouldn't let go. Severus turned and glared down his nose at the twerp, but Potter merely shook his head.

  
[   
](http://www.flickr.com/photos/39154487@N07/5391600195/)   


"I said I'd help. And I will. All the way. He... he'd want it that way. Besides," Potter gave him one of those horrendously familiar, mutinous looks, "in for a sickle, in for a galleon, right?"

It wasn't worth the effort to argue, that white-hot agony of speaking, and so Severus permitted Potter to continue assisting him on the long, slow trek across the stone floor and up the shallow steps to the dais.

The curtain rippled an invitation. The voices seemed to crescendo until they sounded like one voice. His voice.

 _Bugger off or stop thinking._

Severus's laugh was a harsh scrape across the raw, unhealing skin of his throat. The sound echoed around the room.

"Fuck, that's eerie." Potter raked a hand through his hair. "Snape, I..." And then he was hugging Severus, almost overbalancing him, and Severus couldn't do anything but return his embrace if he didn't want to fall down.

"I... thank you." Potter blinked a few times and rubbed his nose in a most unsanitary fashion. "For everything. Even for being a complete arsehole."

Severus nodded, hissing at the pain caused by that movement.

"I'm not going to apologise for going back and trying to save you, either."

"Don't waste this. Any of it." Severus's voice came out as a whisper. "Or I shall drag your dogfather out of there, and we shall haunt you."

"All right," Potter muttered into his chest. Then, finally, he released Severus. "I'll stay," he said and gestured at the benches. "I'll just be right over there."

For a brief moment, Severus understood what he'd asked of this boy, using his life debt to force Potter to make the arrangements, to bring him here and watch someone else pass through this archway. But then another wave of pain crashed through him.

Turning his back on Potter, Severus released his cane, which fell with a clatter, and placed a hand on the cracked and crumbling stone archway.

 _You're the devil I know._

The words made Severus smile. He moved forward, not resisting the pull of the veil. He let go of the archway and took that last step. The squeeze of being drawn in was almost like Apparating.

When he was released into a bright world, Severus stumbled. And panicked. Flailing to regain his balance, it took him a couple of seconds to realise that _nothing hurt_. Stunned, Severus looked down at his hands and flexed them. Easily. He shook his head — without pain — and smiled.

At Sirius, who was reaching for him, seizing the front of his robes, and dragging him forwards. Wrapping his arms around him. And Severus grabbed him back, tight enough to hurt.

"You're late," Sirius growled. And his kiss was as welcoming as it was punishing.

  
[   
](http://www.flickr.com/photos/39154487@N07/5391600123/)   



End file.
